


do you even lift (me) bro?

by driedupwishes



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Canon Compliant, Kissing, M/M, Please @ Canon Let Them Be Gay And Happy And At Peace, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-02
Updated: 2017-08-02
Packaged: 2018-12-10 01:39:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11681331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/driedupwishes/pseuds/driedupwishes
Summary: “You slept through acar crash,” Prompto whispers accusingly, because he’s used to losing sleep to Gladio’s thunder-snores at this point, but Noctis is usually unbothered by them. Noctis, in retaliation, kicks softly at the ankle tucked between his own, ducking down to bury his face in Prompto’s hair as he does so.“I wasalready asleepfor the crash,” Noctis argues, his tone edging dangerously toward the end of incredulous where it might be heard over Gladio. “Ican’t- I can’t fall asleep when he’s alreadythis fucking loud.”Ignis is going to wake up for sure if Noctis keeps making Prompto laugh like this.





	do you even lift (me) bro?

**Author's Note:**

> my [roommate](http://jedierenjaeger.tumblr.com) looked at me snickering to myself after i told her the title of this and went "you're proud of yourself, aren't you?"
> 
> i am. i very much am.

“There is no way- _no way_ ,” Noctis hisses, “that we haven’t done enough fucking bounties to _not have enough money to afford two rooms._ ”

Prompto has to twist his head and hide his face against Noctis’ bare shoulder to keep from laughing out loud and risk waking Ignis. Noctis’ breath tickles the shell of Prompto’s ear as he moves, his frustrated hissing soft enough Prompto almost hadn’t heard it over the chainsaw sound of Gladio’s snoring echoing throughout the room. He feels Noctis’ hand card through his hair as he trembles with smothered giggles, an affectionate scratch of the other’s nails against his scalp just before he pulls back and worms his way up so that they’re nose to nose.

“You know how Iggy is with money,” Prompto whispers back. Even in the dark, barely any moonlight coming through the motel’s thick curtains, Prompto’s close enough to see the glint of Noctis’ eyes. He feels himself fall forward into them, sucked in like a spell from a red giant, fucking gravity all up until he’s too weak to fight it off, until he’s close enough their noses brush, foreheads bumping as Noctis’ breath ghosts Prompto’s lips.

He’s close enough he thinks he can feel the way the corner of Noctis’ mouth twitches into a smile, but that might be a phantom feeling, the knowledge of what that expression looks like coupled with the heat of their bodies so close messing with his head. Prompto doesn’t particularly care either way, finding himself grinning back all the same.

“I don’t give a _fuck_ what Iggy’s like with money,” Noctis hisses, still sort of grinning as Prompto fights back another wave of laughter. “How am I supposed _sleep_ when that _asshole_ sounds like a behemoth looking for a fucking mate!”

Prompto wheezes, having to duck his head sharply sown and press his mouth against Noctis’ neck to stay quiet. Noctis isn’t wrong, exactly; Gladio’s snoring from the other bed in the room, loud enough Prompto thinks it shakes the walls every time he breathes in, the noise so prevalent Prompto has no idea how Ignis is even asleep right now, sharing a bed with the guy like he is.

“You slept through a _car crash_ ,” Prompto whispers back accusingly, because he’s used to losing sleep to Gladio’s thunder-snores at this point, but Noctis is usually unbothered by them. Noctis, in retaliation, kicks softly at the ankle tucked between his own, ducking down to bury his face in Prompto’s hair as he does so.

“I was _already asleep for the crash_ ,” Noctis argues, his tone edging dangerously toward the end of incredulous where it might be heard over Gladio. “I can’t- I can’t _fall asleep_ when he’s already _this fucking loud_.”

Ignis is going to wake up for sure if Noctis keeps making Prompto laugh like this. He bites his tongue even though it stings, feeling tears build at the corners of his eyes from mirth. “Noct,” he snorts quietly, torn between following it with _I fucking love you, dude_ or _I cannot believe you right now, man_. He doesn’t get a chance to decide, either, Noctis breathing out a gusty sigh before he starts the tedious process to struggle upright and detangle their limbs from one another.

“C’mon,” Noctis breathes as he slides from the bed and leaves Prompto lying alone and strangely cold in the space they’d been occupying together. “No point in lying here if we can’t sleep.”

_Dude_ , Prompto almost says, _what about cuddle time?_ But he keeps his mouth shut, even though he should protest for more reasons beyond _cuddle time_ , like that it’s one in the morning and they both know Ignis has at _least_ two bounties lined up for tomorrow, _at minimum_ , but he doesn’t. Prompto just sits up and follows Noctis, because that’s what he’s here in life to do – follow Noctis to the ends of Eos and beyond, follow him all over Lucis, into caves and dungeons and weird ass forests, because there’s nowhere in the world Prompto would rather be than at Noctis’ side.

He still sighs quietly but dramatically, though, still makes a show of floundering out of the motel covers and whining a soft _dude, do we have to?_ that’s swallowed completely by the duet of Gladio’s snores and Noctis’ muffled laughter, but once he’s on his feet he pads to follow Noctis, no hesitation.

The front door is a no go for sure – the hinges squeaked so loudly when they came in it was nearly ear piercing and Ignis will wake up in a heartbeat to tear them a new one if they leave that way. Noctis brings one slim finger up to his lips with a mischivious smile before leading Prompto toward the glass door to the balcony, slipping behind the curtain and reaching back to tug Prompto along.

“We’re still wearing our pajama pants, dude,” Prompto whispers, biting his lip on the urge to laugh at the sight before him. Framed by the curtains bulk, their reflections in the glass door are comically mused, a pair of chocobo print pants covering Prompto’s legs while Noctis’ are hidden by Justice Monsters V pants. “And we don’t even have _shirts_ ,” he can’t help but point out with a huff. Nocti’s reflection shoots him a grin before he rolls his bright blue eyes, his hand reaching for the lock on the door’s handle undeterred by Prompto’s comments.

The click of the lock is safely smothered by Galdio’s snores and the air outside is surprisingly cool for Lestallum, twining its way around Prompto’s bare shoulders as they slip out onto the balcony. The door clicks shut behind them and Prompto finds himself giggling, reaching up to hide the way he’s suddenly grinning uncontrollably with his hand, only to feel himself grind to a halt as he looks over and finds Noctis grinning at him, wide and beautiful, his bare shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter as well. Noctis is even more stunning and beautiful out where the moonlight can reach him in full, his skin glowing like he’s one of the Six, his eyes blazing the way no magical gleam can compare. Prompto feels his mouth go dry, a flush creeping through his chest and up his throat as his heart lurches with a tidal wave of _fuck I love you_.

“Hey,” Noctis says, laughter a warm presence in his voice as he reaches out to nudge their shoulders together. Prompto’s always been caught off guard by the ease with which Noctis touches him, tacticle and familiar from the get go, with a brush of his hand or their shoulders knocking together whenever they’d walk around the city after school. He shouldn’t be surprised, he thinks, remembering the ease of which a little prince had reached out for his hand, but he still is.

Noctis always has a way of surprising him. They could live forever, until Eos eroded into nothingness around them, and Prompto is sure Noctis would still be able to find ways to surprise him with ease.

It’s a warm thought, a good thought. It makes him want to kiss Noctis, but even as he leans in to do so, Noctis is moving forward, beating him to the punch. Just a chaste kiss, barely a brushing of their chapped lips against one another, but it still knocks the breath out of Prompto more thoroughly than any daemon’s swipe.

“Hey yourself,” he manages, flushing faintly at the croak in his voice, loud in the otherwise relative stillness of the night. Noctis’ grin softens, fading into a smile that’s a little crooked around the edges, and Prompto leans forward until their foreheads bump together gently. The wind picks up a little, then, blowing cool air through the thin material of his pants, and Prompto can’t help but shiver as it does so, face flushing when Noctis’ eyes crinkle in the corners in response.

Noctis laughs, a low, soft thing only for Prompto, a sound that makes him feel like the luckiest person alive. There’s a flash of blue and a roll of Noctis’ wrist between their bodies and then Noctis is pressing something warm and soft between them, leaning back after humming low in his throat to give Prompto room to put it on.

It’s a hoodie, a black one, fabric rich and soft enough Prompto could’ve pinpointed it as something _royal_ even without the aid of the family color. He makes a face to hide the way he flushes a deeper shade of pink, pulling it on over his head and coming out the other side of it, knowing he must look ridiculous and out of place in it and not quite able to care. Noctis, he finds, has already wormed his way into another hoodie from his stash in the void, this one green and faded, as familiar to Prompto as the one he’s wearing but in a different way.

“I wondered where that thing went,” he laughs, reaching out to curl his fingers in the corners of the hoodie’s pouch pocket, tugging Noctis forward into a kiss. Noctis, rumpled and so gorgeous in Prompto’s old high school hoodie, falls into the kiss easily, snorting with quiet laughter as he loops his arms around Prompto’s neck and curls his fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck gently.

They kiss quietly for a moment, movements unhurried and gentle. Noctis opens his mouth and tilts his head and Prompto kisses him deeper, pulls their bodies a little more flush, falling head over heels for Noctis all over again as he does so. When they part they’re both faintly out of breath, cheeks pink and chests heaving as they struggle to remember how to breathe without falling prey again to the siren call of another kiss.

“Dude,” Prompto murmurs, dropping his head down until he’s resting his forehead in the crook of Noctis’ jaw. He wants to kiss him again, so badly, but this is _important_. “I love you.”

_“Dude_ ,” Noctis repeats, voice trembling in a way Prompto knows well. “You have _got_ to stop calling me that after I kiss you, Prom, I swear by the _Six_ -“

Prompto grins, feeling the laughter Noctis swallows back against vibrating in his own chest as he does so. “Bro,” he says instead, just to hear Noctis groan, pulling back so that he can watch the love of his life grimace dramatically at him, an expression of extreme dismay crawling across his beautiful face. “I _really_ fucking love you.”

“ _Bro_ ,” Noctis sputters. Prompto loves winding Noctis up like this, loves watching him struggle to scowl while his eyes burn with a bright mirth that outshines every star in the sky. “Fucking _Six_ , Prom, shut the fuck _up_.”

“Never,” Prompto teases, sticking his tongue out at Noctis only to have to fight back a shriek as Noctis grabs his head in both in hands and then drags his fingers every which way through what he already knows is probably an untamable case of bedhead. “ _Noct_ , babe, _why_?”

Noctis laughs again, shaking his head and then using the hands he’s got in Prompto’s hair to drag him into another kiss. “I love you too, _man_ ,” Noctis murmurs into his mouth, ignoring Prompto’s indignant whine, and then Prompto forgets it too, too busy falling forward, into the heat of Noctis, which burns and pulls at him like the weight of the sun itself.

 

-

 

Noctis loses sense of time, kissing Prompto on the balcony of their motel room in Lestallum somewhere north of one in the morning. It’s too nice a feeling, even as exhaustion drags at his bones, and so he lets it wash over him, Prompto crowding him back against the metal railing, boxing him in with warm hands on his hips. He so rarely gets something as soft and peaceful as this and he wants to cling to it, keep it close, keep _Prompto_ as close as he can for as long as he can.

But all good things have to come to an end. Eventually they break apart, the slight chill of the night having crept through Noctis’ thin sleep pants, through the soles of his bare feet against the icy concrete floor, until it lives in the very marrow of his bones. Prompto keeps their foreheads pressed together as Noctis pulls back, the other boy humming quietly to himself as they lean there, curled together and smiling.

Noctis clears his throat, grinning at the soft dopey expression on Prompto’s face as he recalls why he’d dragged Prompto from their bed. “C’mon,” he laughs, shuffling Prompto back far enough that he can move around again, rolling his wrist and _reaching_ -

A pair of dorky behemoth slippers drop into Noctis’ hand from the void. He rolls his other wrist as Prompto starts to wheeze, calling on the power within himself and reaching until there’s a flash of light that leaves him holding an equally ridiculous pair of moogle slippers. He holds the second pair out to Prompto as he drops the behemoth pair to the ground, shuffling his feet readily into the warmth left behind by the void.

“ _Noct_ ,” Prompto laughs, startled and soft and disbelieving as he shakes his head. He still takes the slippers, though, bending over to pull them on his bare feet, and Noctis feels a wide grin stretching his lips as he takes in the sight of Prompto in his silly slippers and sleep pants, Noctis’ old royal hoodie stretched over his shoulders in the most attractive way.

The only real pity here is the loose material of the hoodie hides Prompto’s biceps from view. Otherwise, though, it’s a perfect picture and Noctis is content to take what he can get.

“For old time’s sake,” Noctis tells him, shrugging his shoulders and tucking his hands into the pouch pocket of the hoodie he’d shamelessly swiped from Prompto and never given back. He watches as Prompto’s face softens, a memory dancing over his freckled cheeks, playing out so vividly Noctis feels his chest go tight as he relives it too.

They’d spent a lot of late nights like this, once upon a time, wandering Insomnia in their pajamas, hand in hand as just two more faceless kids who couldn’t sleep. Noctis’ hadn’t realized how much he’d missed those nights until they’d left the city behind, until it fell in their absence, and then he was just left dying for the chance to wander the city again with Prompto at his side, the chance he hadn’t been sure he’d ever get again. But it’s here again now – Lestallum, for all its heat and strange back alley cobblestone streets, is enough like Insomnia was, still a buzzing place in the lull of the night where people murmur quietly to each other as they drift aimlessly under the street lamps and laugh quietly to themselves.

It’s a comfort Noctis hadn’t been expecting to find. It’s a chance he doesn’t want to pass up, not with Prompto at his side, making that face as memories drift by.

“For old time’s sake,” Prompto echoes softly, smiling gently, an almost sad kind of shadow lurking in his eyes as he gazes at Noctis. “Though, can I just say, thank the _Six_ we never had to sneak out of your old place like this? It would’ve been fucking _impossible_ , dude.”

Noctis laughs, a warm feeling spreading throughout his chest as that mental image chases away the melancholy of his earlier thoughts. “Fuck,” he says, shaking his head until his hair bounces at his temples, “that would have _sucked_. Top floor like that, Iggy at the front door? No _way_.”

Prompto’s grin is lightning quick and blazing bright, calling an echoing grin to Noctis’ lips as well. Their plan is an unspoken conclusion of what to do as their eyes meet, Prompto’s eyebrows bouncing up as his lips twitch from a grin to a smirk, Noctis rolling his eyes and pretending to sigh. Neither of them are keen on falling the distance from their second story balcony to the ground, not with their thin pants and ridiculous novelty footwear, and so there’s only really one way to go from here – _up_.

Prompto turns without a word, guides Noctis under the lip of the roof’s edge above, and then fits his palms flush against the bone of Noctis’ hips, bringing them close together until the toes of their dorky slippers brush. Noctis feels his cheeks flush and he sucks in a breath, swatting at Prompto’s chest when the other waggles his eyebrows at him teasingly, and then in one fluid move Prompto’s picking him up, hoisting him off his feet with ease.

It’s attractive in a distracting way, something Noctis finds happens _every single time_ Prompto does this kind of thing, but Noctis tries not to let it distract him from long. He snags the edge of the room and pushes himself up, Prompto sliding his grip down his legs – _distractingly, fuck_ – so that he can give Noctis one last push, until Noctis is scrambling up and tumbling onto the shingles. It’s uncomfortable and they creak alarmingly, but Noctis just rolls over on his stomach and reaches down a hand, dragging Prompto up when he uses the balcony railing as a step to jump up and grab the edge himself.

The clattering of the shingles is loud, the slope of the roof making it difficult to get a good grip or fight the pull of gravity back toward the edge and right on off, but they manage, together, landing in a heap of limbs toward the top and giggling against each other as they do. It’s probably audible in the room below, how they crawl across the room and thump about, but Noctis doesn’t care, feeling seventeen again as Prompto eggs him toward the fire escape at the back of the motel so that they can _go_.

From the fire escape they spill into one of Lestallum’s back alley streets, the curve of Prompto’s hip fitting under the palm of Noctis’ hand comfortably as he slings an arm casually around the other’s waist. Prompto slings an arm around his shoulders in response, their heads knocking together as they amble along. Neither of them even have their _phones_ , wandering the litter filled alleyways in slippers they’d given each other as gag gifts, but Noctis doesn’t care, too content in the moment to let anything ruin in.

“Dude,” Prompto mutters, after they’ve wound their way around and around, through the market that’s still in full swing and back into another series of alleyways. People give them glances, at first, but no one seems to recognize _the prince_ the way they do in daylight, when he’s wearing his usual clothes. Like this Prompto’s almost drawing more looks than Noctis is, wearing that distinct deep black that can only mean one thing, but whatever the onlookers think about the pair, they keep to themselves, which Noctis is grateful for above all else.

“ _Dude_ ,” Noctis answers, partially to mock Prompto and partially – well, honestly, it’s entirely to mock Prompto, who pouts a little before shaking his head with a bouncy laugh.

“I just realized that I’m, like, _starving_ ,” Prompto says. His left hand flaps in the air, trying to exaggerate his point even more than his dramatic tone, and Noctis can’t fight back a laugh at the sight of him clutching at his own chest, arm jerking to sweep across the alleyway before them. “Can we find some grub or something, Noct?”

Noctis twists his head to press a kiss against Prompto’s head, though it turns into more of a smile tucked against his hairline as they maneuver past the pipes of the city jutting from a nearby wall. “Sure,” he laughs, squeezing Prompto’s hip under his hand, “why not? I think I’ve some gil tucked in the void we can use.”

“Thank the _Six_ ,” Prompto cheers. Noctis scoffs a little, a little laugh tumbling out of him when Prompto pulls away only to grab his arm excitingly, their fingers linking as Prompto takes the lead.

“More like thank _me_ ,” Noctis teases. Prompto shoots him a look that’s aiming to be flat and unamused but comes out soft and coy, flirtatious in the easy, familiar way that’s just _them_.

“Sure,” Prompto says, voice dropping low and soft as he tugs Noctis forward and Noctis stumbles into him, catching himself with his free hand against Prompto’s chest. “Thanks, _bro_ ,” he murmurs even lower, dropping his lips until they brush Noctis’ gently. Noctis groans, even as a laugh crawls its way uncontrollably up his throat, thumping his palm gently against Prompto’s chest even as he pushes into the kiss and gives back as good as he gets.

Noctis ends up pressed against the brick wall to one side of the alleyway, just like he had against the railing on the balcony, his arms tight around Prompto’s shoulders and his tongue ghosting along Prompto’s, teasing at the seam of his lips until they’re both groaning quietly in the scant space between them. Prompto tries to press closer and Noctis tries to pull him in, even with they’re pressed as tightly as they can go, until Prompto finally gets impatient, sliding his hands down Noctis’ sides until he can lift Noctis by his thighs and hoist him clear off his feet.

“ _Prom_ ,” Noctis gasps, laughter lurking in the back of his throat, “put me _down_ , holy shit!” He leans back, knocking his head against the wall, and Prompto grins up at him but doesn’t budge, eyes shadowed in the dim light of the alleyway, gaze burning and unapologetic about their current predicament. “I thought you wanted to find _food,_ dude, what the _hell_?”

Prompto kisses his way along Noctis’ jaw, nips at the juncture of his throat as he ducks his head down and presses their hips together. “Don’t _dude_ me when I’ve got you against a wall,” Prompto mutters darkly, eyes gleaming mischievously in the glimpse Noctis can get when Prompto glances up through his lashes. Noctis sputters, fists his hands in the back of the hoodie Prompto’s wearing and then _laughs_ , his whole being expanding with the kind of boundless adoration that floods through him as Prompto drops kisses liberally down to his collarbone and then back up to his jaw.

“Oh, _oh_ ,” Noctis says, ducking his own head to try and catch Prompto’s lips with his. He manages, for a second, but then they’re both grinning too much to kiss, Noctis kicking his stupidly slipper covered feet against the backs of Prompto’s thighs as their laughter dances from one set of lips to another. “What was that, Prom, _huh_ , what was that? Is there something you’re trying to tell me, _bro_?”

Prompto laughs, sharp and bright, his face scrunched up like a firework in full display, captivating to look at and burning, burning _bright_ , and Noctis can’t help but drag him forward to kiss him, tangling his fingers in Prompto’s hair and licking his way into Prompto’s mouth as he opens up to kiss Noctis back.

They do make it to a street vender eventually, out on the edge of the city where they can claim a table to themselves, buying desserts and meat kabobs with what gil Noctis scrounges up from the void. Noctis scoots his chair over until he’s pressed shoulder to shoulder with Prompto before pulling the other boy’s arm over his shoulder, and Prompto in response slings his legs over Noctis’ lap until he can balance them on the edge of the opposite chair.

And it’s nice, Noctis thinks, to have this moment in time he never thought he’d find again, different but just as warm, just as good, because Prompto is still at his side. Prompto, who’s just as beautiful as ever, Prompto who’s still nudging him with his elbow and smiling at him with icing stained lips, eyes bright and alive in this city that isn’t theirs but isn’t entirely _not_ theirs either, and Noctis finds himself forgetting, for a few hours, the way he always does on nights like this, that there’s anything wrong in the world at all.

“Hey,” Noctis mutters, leaning forward to knock the stick of his kabob with Prompto’s. “Prompto, bro – I love you.”

Prompto snorts, his shoulders shaking as he starts to laugh, the sound of which gets steadily louder as it goes on until he’s almost bent double with the force of his, only straightening to knock his kabob stick against Noctis’ like they’re sharing a secret, gentle and grinning and _beautiful_ as can be.

“Noctis, _dude_ ,” Prompto echoes happily, “I love _you_ too.”


End file.
